The next day, Doctor McCoy spilled his coffee all over his desk at the sight of a very tousled and (hopefully only) half-naked Mr. Spock looking out at him with a raised eyebrow from the comm screen.

"Why, Doctor, with such carelessness, I hardly see why Jim believes you still fit to be the Enterprise's chief medical officer." He shook off the shock and responded with a glare.

"Why you pointy-eared hobgoblin—"

"I believe your last invective against me included 'green-blooded' and 'unfeeling'—"

"Spock, stop poking at Bones so early in the morning and tell him already!" said a voice not far from where Spock was seated. McCoy's scowl became a knowing, almost boastful smirk at the sound of the familiar, amused tone he hadn't heard in weeks. His change in early-morning demeanor was noted by the Vulcan and McCoy now saw a trace of amusement in that condescending expression.

"So how long do I have to get ready?" He didn't need to hear the news; he already knew and he was secretly proud of Spock for finally getting the balls to do it. Knowing Jim, he doubted that he would even have more than four hours to locate his dress uniform and shine his shoes.

"5.35 hours, Doctor, and you need not bring your hypospray for the occasion." McCoy couldn't help, but give a low whistle of surprise at the generosity of an extra 1.35 hours, which only made Spock's lips quirk upwards and Jim probably roll his eyes in the background.

"Oh, and Bones..." A very exuberant Jim Kirk suddenly appeared, dressed in white for work. He almost looked as young as he was seven years ago as he grinned at his tired CMO. "I expect you to be wearing your stiffest collar today to San Francisco, you're our best man."

McCoy feigned a look of indignation and grumbled under his breath about bringing the hypospray, in that case. It caused Spock to raise his eyebrow again and Jim to chuckle as they said their farewells and ended the communiqué.

Once the screen was blank again, McCoy sighed and looked down at the mess he'd made of his work desk.

"That pointy-eared, conniving...he better watch what he drinks tonight," he murmured under his breath with a devious smile. It'd serve Spock right after all the hell he'd made Jim and McCoy go through those past few weeks, not to mention years. He was sure Jim would appreciate finally discovering what could get a Vulcan drunk.